Chapter Text
After Sean fell asleep, White stayed motionless for a long time. His hand was pressed reassuringly between Sean’s heartbeat and his warm palm, and White couldn’t make himself move, even with the tangle of anxiety, panic, and other various emotions in his chest. God, so much had happened. Black was awake, and taking back his place in the gang, removing White neatly from the friendships he’d started to think were his own. Sean returned his feelings just two days ago, moving their relationship to something more — something beautiful — but because White hadn’t come clean, that shattered with Black’s return because Sean still didn’t know who he truly was. Something was wrong with Black, again, because that dizziness and shortness of breath earlier was not his own. Sean had been shot and the garage — a haven over the last couple months — was no longer safe. White, alone again, had nowhere to go, and even this moment with Sean would end, because White had to leave.
White choked on tears, but tried to be silent.
Some time later, Sean’s phone, still in his jeans pocket, started vibrating. White tried to fish it out without waking Sean, pulling it in front of his face to see it was labeled Hia.
Sniffing to clear his sinuses from the crying, White shifted his hand out from Sean’s grasp in order to go outside the tent and answer it. Sean protested in his sleep, murmuring as White took his hand away, and it made White’s heart clench anew, but he needed to see what had happened, if the others were all alright.
White had missed the call by the time he made it outside the tent, but he called back and Gumpa picked up immediately.
“Hia?” White said.
“Black?” Gumpa said. “How’s Sean?”
White felt relief rush through him just at hearing Gumpa’s voice, even though it twinged to hear his brother’s name.
“He’s asleep. His arm wasn’t too bad, just a graze. I bandaged it, but it’ll need to be cleaned better soon.” White said, and Gumpa let out a breath.
“That’s good to hear. Where are you?”
“The warehouse Sean and I staked out the other day. We had stuff left here.”
“Okay. Gram and I are at a friend of mine’s, and Yok went with Dan. I just spoke to him, and Dan has a safe house that he said we could gather at tomorrow. Apparently, Dan got shot too, but Yok is taking care of him.”
Who was Dan? White wondered if it was someone Black had met earlier when he left White at his apartment. Black had apparently seen Sean at least (and that was another thing stressing him, what had Black said to Sean to make him react the way he had to White?).
“Okay.” White swallowed, as he realized that it didn’t matter. With Black’s return, White couldn’t fix things with Sean, or go to that hideout. This might be the last time he ever spoke to Gumpa. Tears formed in White’s eyes, but he blinked them back hard. “Listen Hia, Sean is injured, and I don’t think he should ride his bike. Can you come get him in the morning?”
Gumpa was quiet for a moment. “I can. Where will you be?”
White had no idea. “I-I’ve got something to do. Sorry.”
Gumpa started to speak, to ask another question that White had no answer for. White cut him off.
“Thank you, Hia. For everything.”
“Black—”
“Goodbye.” White hung up. White pushed out a heavy sigh, trying to avoid giving the tears in his eyes an inch, and scrubbed at his face. Sean’s phone needed to be charged, so White turned to the bag of supplies he’d brought two days ago, and pulled out the battery pack, since there was no power at this warehouse, and plugged it in. Then, holding the phone, White looked at the tent behind him. Everything in him cried out to go back and lay down next to Sean, to rest for the night at least. But if he did that, Sean might wake before him, might catch him before he tried to leave.
Then White had to chuckle at himself, because a huge part of him wanted just that to happen. But, his loyalty to Black, what he owed his brother, after stealing his life and changing his relationships with his friends weighed over him too. Black told him to leave, to be safe. The gang wasn’t safe, what happened last night was proof of that. But then again, White’s old life was not an option either. He’d walked out on his dad, and turned off his old phone (which was actually long dead and somewhere in Black’s apartment still). Todd was the actual culprit for Black’s injuries, a fact that filled him with shame and rage, for falling for his lies. He didn’t know anyone else. He felt pathetic.
White didn’t know what to do. He looked back down at Sean’s phone in his hands, slowly charging on the weak battery pack, the small numbers blurry without his contacts, but flipping casually from 23% to 24%. He wanted his phi, his big brother. He wanted Sean. He wanted someone to listen to him for once. He wanted everyone to be safe.
White sniffed back tears again, and opened Sean’s contacts, finding one labeled Black. Black probably wouldn’t answer a call from Sean, but White tapped call anyway, expecting it to ring out, and he’d try again until Black picked up.
Instead, Black’s phone went straight to voicemail. Had he turned his phone off? White frowned, and tried again. Again, it clicked out with the automated message. This time, White spoke softly.
“Phi, please call me back here.”
The message saved, and White was left staring at the phone once more. There was a sick feeling in his stomach. White put the phone down, and hugged himself, raising his knees to his chin and leaning back against the concrete. He looked again at the tent, where Sean slept, wanting so dearly to go back and slot himself into Sean’s arms, and his heart broke. He couldn’t do it. Setting an alarm on Sean’s phone for three hours from now, White curled up on his own knees, and tried to sleep.
____
When Sean’s alarm went off, White jolted from his doze, and fumbled to turn it off before it woke Sean within the tent. In the ringing silence afterwards, White groaned and tried to stretch, his ass and legs sore from sitting on hard concrete for so long. He blinked away haze, and squinted at the screen of Sean’s phone, but there were no calls or texts from Black. Biting his lip, White looked again at the tent, and then at the sky outside, which was beginning to lighten. He needed to go, before Sean woke up, and he couldn’t very well steal Sean’s phone — but once he left, Black wouldn’t be able to contact him at all.
Standing up with another groan, White stepped towards the stairs, and dialed Black once more. Again, his phone number simply went to voicemail. White didn’t leave another one, and closed out the call, before creeping back over to the area with their things, and placing Sean’s phone, and the battery pack on top of the tent bag, where Sean would see it. Then, White closed his eyes for a breath, and turned to descend the stairs, his heart calling out in goodbye.
White didn’t really have a plan for where to go, but he knew he had basically nothing but the clothes on his back and a small amount of baht inside his wallet. He didn’t even have a phone of his own with him. He needed food, and a shower, and clothes to wear. The garage was compromised, and Black’s place might still be staked out by Todd’s men. Though, without going back to Black’s place, he didn’t even have his passport. He had the address of the Dan’s safe house, but if he went there, it would ruin Black’s ability to reinsert himself into his own life. He didn’t know anyone else in Thailand who didn’t also know Black.
There was a final option, to tuck his tail between his legs and return to his father. To admit to failing everything he’d tried to do, and return to the life set out for him. White curled his lip. He refused. He believed in Black’s cause now, he believed his father and the system were wrong. White couldn’t go back to that.
God, he really was fucked. Rubbing his head, White decided to just start walking: getting out of the industrial district where the warehouse was seemed like a good first step. He’d find some cheap food, and go from there.
White didn’t think too hard about the directions his feet were taking him, heading vaguely towards the rising sun and hopefully further into the city. Instinct or random chance had him picking directions when he came to turns or cross roads, and eventually, he found a cheap market. He bought a couple of Chinese style meat buns that would fill him up, and even found an electronics stall that had very cheap phones and pay as you go sim cards, which he got. It wasn’t fancy, but at least he could make and receive calls. He dialed Black’s number again, long memorized, wanting Black to have this new number, but it again reached voicemail. White felt anger mix with worry that had been squeezing his throat.
“C’mon P’Black, answer,” White muttered, calling again as he stepped to a slightly less busy corner. Black did not follow his request, and the phone beeped again for White to leave a voicemail.
“P’Black, this is my new number. Call me. Please.”
White closed out the call, and then watched the screen for a moment, to see if perhaps it would light up with Black’s incoming call, but no luck. Sighing, the buns White had eaten churning, White shoved the phone into his pocket, and started walking again.
He ended up on the other side of the market, and found another crossroads, one that would take him deeper into the city, and the other that skirted the water. White paused a moment, but felt the tug towards the water and turned that way. When he was in Russia, and in any of the traveling he’d done with his father, he’d always been drawn to waterfronts. It was peaceful. The dock that Sean had taken him to yesterday morning had reminded him of that peace, that quiet that water gives you, to let you think and make choices. Be reborn, as Sean had said. This wasn’t the same dock that Sean went to, but that was probably for the best anyway, as Sean could show up.
White let out a sigh and renewed his pace, wandering along the path until he saw a bridge up ahead. And on that bridge, was a very familiar figure.
Black looked terrible, was White’s first thought. Black was leaning against the rail of the small foot bridge, kneading his forehead and looking miserable. White realized that each time he’d chosen a direction at random, he’d been walking closer and closer to his twin. Was their connection that strong? Could he find him on purpose? Shaking his head, and putting that aside for now, White picked up his pace and approached his phi. Black didn’t look up, but White could see the moment Black became aware of him, first the stillness of his attention, and then Black’s shoulder’s lowering in surprise.
“White,” Black said, and White felt a little knot of emotion at someone calling him by his real name. “I thought I told you to stay away.” That emotion switched to annoyed pain. White frowned.
“I am, Phi,” White said, a little sharply. Leaving Sean that morning was still a fresh wound. “What are you doing here?”
Black didn’t answer. All the while, he kept squinting in the sun, holding his head. If White thought about it, he could feel the echo of an exhausted headache that probably wasn’t just his own. After all, Black had only been out of the hospital for a day. Surely he should have been resting, not whatever dangerous thing he was doing. White realized Black was still in yesterday’s clothes, like him, and he looked ill and also oddly damp.
“What happened to you?” White asked, and Black again was quiet, though he finally turned to look at him. His hand lowered from his forehead to curl near his jaw, like he was thinking about grabbing hold of the necklace that actually remained on White’s neck. It was an oddly vulnerable position.
“I wanted to see you one last time,” Black said, as if he’d called him there. And maybe he had, White didn’t know. The words sent ice along White’s spine.
“The last time?” White said, alarm raising his pitch. “Where are you going?”
Black again didn’t respond to his words, but turned to face him fully, his eyes dark and pained. White didn’t want to see that expression on his face.
“I want to ask you something, as a big brother who cares about his little brother.” White had heard that tone before. He’d heard it from his mother, years ago, when she’d said she was leaving. He’d heard it from his father, when he said he wouldn’t be allowed to call Black from Russia. It was the tone of someone thinking they knew better than White, someone who’d be making a decision that affected his whole life, all for his own good.
White felt his anger snap. “I asked where you are going?”
“Please don’t go back and see my friend’s again,” Black plowed on.
“P’Black-”
"I don’t want anything to happen to you. Just listen to me for once. You’re the only family member I have left. I don’t think I can take it if something happens to you.” Black’s voice broke, and White’s anger broke with it. He didn’t know how to say it to Black, in a way Black would listen to, that the same was true for him! That he didn’t have to go, that they could fight this shit together and make the world a better place, and he didn’t have to talk about last times, or goodbyes (and he didn’t have to leave a person he loved asleep alone in a tent either!) Black stepped closer, and reached out, placing a hand on the side of White’s face. His fingers were cold, and clammy, like they’d been in the hospital, like he was already a corpse.
“Please understand me. I’m begging you.”
White’s breath shivered through him, because Black never begged, not when he was a child, and all White had seen of his personality promised he wouldn’t as an adult either. But here he was, looking at White with eyes that implored White to be safe, to stay away from the danger Black was in. And White realized he’d been holding on to a last bit of hope - that seeing Black again, that in talking to him, he’d be able to change his mind. To fight for his life here in the gang, and with Sean. That he could argue back against Black like he did to his father, and keep everything he’d gained. White had been hoping, deep deep inside, that he just needed to wait for Black to cool off, to get used to the idea, and he’d be able to return.
But at Black’s gaze, at the pain and the terror there, that there was something he couldn’t fight, and that something was the idea of White getting hurt. That this idea was more scary to Black than anything he’d faced before… and White couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything but agree, even though it would upend his life, and leave him in shambles. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that for Black, after all. White could pick himself up, if it would help Black.
“P’Black,” White said, taking hold of Black’s wrist, and feeling the bones there, thinner than his own. “I understand. I’ll stay away, but you have to stay safe.”
Black didn’t agree immediately, and White squeezed his wrist, pressing Black’s fingers into his cheek.
“Please, Phi. What happened last night?” White tried to catch Black’s eyes and hold his gaze. “You- you went to see Todd, right? He hurt you, I felt it.”
Black’s eyes finally snapped to his. “What? You did?”
White nodded, stepping closer. “I felt it. What did he do?” Anger started to simmer up again, directed at Todd. Black, meanwhile, looked shaken, horrified.
“The connection is back? It was real?”
White tightened his hand on Black’s wrist, nodding again. “It’s real, Phi. It’s back. Ever since I came back to Thailand. Ever since the night you went into the coma.”
Black paled even more at that, and White felt the heartbeat in Black’s wrist stutter, and for a moment White was afraid Black would fall, or cry. Instead, Black whirled out of White’s grasp, and swung his fist towards the railing of the bridge in a mad punch, only to pull back at the last moment, knuckles only pressing to the wood.
“Goddammit,” Black whispered, as White stepped forward and took his brother’s undamaged fist between his palms.
“P’Black-” but Black interrupted him.
“Please, White, go home. Stay safe.”
White gulped a breath, his eyes filling with tears. It was surprising to him that it took this long.
“You have to promise to stay safe, too, okay? I’ll stay away, but you have to promise. Go be with the gang, let them help you. Don’t go after Todd alone again.”
White’s heart ached, and the half of his soul that belonged to Sean wailed inside… White boxed it off. Even if White was alone at the end of all of it, if Black and Sean, and the rest of the gang were safe, he could make that sacrifice. He could.
Still, tears overflowed down White’s cheeks. Black nodded, and pulled him in, pressing their foreheads together, the way they used to do.
“Okay,” Black said. White sobbed once.
“And take care of Sean for me,” he said, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see whatever look crossed Black’s face at that request. He had to be selfish, and ask it, though. White couldn’t walk away without asking. “Please, Phi.”
“Mm,” Black agreed, and White sobbed again, and pulled Black in for a proper hug. Black hugged him back, just as hard as that first time in Black’s apartment. They stayed like that for a long moment, while White just breathed in the smell of Black: cigarette smoke and chlorine, strangely, with a tang of hospital that still lingered and just reminded White that Black had been so close to death with that coma. That he was up and walking and remembered everything was already a miracle. White couldn’t ask for more.
White sniffed hard, and pulled back, scrubbing his arm over his eyes. He vaguely saw Black doing the same.
“Let me give you the address of where the gang is. Oh, god I forgot, you don’t know about the shooting either,” White said, his mind starting to race. Black’s eyebrows rose in alarm.
“What do you mean?”
“Last night, Tawi’s men ambushed the garage,” White said. “Sean was shot, and so was Yok’s new boyfriend. Dan, I think. They’re all in hiding now.”
Black reached out to grip his upper arms.
“Tell me you weren’t there,” he ordered, and White half winced.
“I wasn’t when it started,” White said, and Black shook him a bit, and White sighed. “I got Sean out. He was pinned down, he would have died, Phi!”
“You could have died!” Black’s hands started to hurt on his arms.
“They needed help. That’s why you’ve gotta go back to them! Take your place back, don’t go off on your own and get half drowned or something!”
Black stepped back, his face shuttering, and White blinked, not realizing he’d put the pieces together. The inability to breathe last night, the chlorine smell and the way Black looked like his clothes and hair had dried stiff with chemicals.
“That’s what happened, right?” White’s stomach sank, churning until he thought he’d be sick. “Todd tried to drown you.”
God, White hadn’t even come close to processing how wrong he was about Todd. Todd, who he’d told so much, who walked into Black’s apartment like he owned the place and slung an arm over White’s shoulders, and looked at Black on the hospital bed like he actually cared, when he was the one who put him there.
White might actually want to kill him.
Shaking it off, stuffing that deep inside, White looked at his brother again -- his stupid stupid brother, who had neither confirmed nor denied what Todd had done, and who was looking at the ground with a glower that probably could have melted pavement, if Black didn’t also look like a strong breeze might knock him over.
“I’m gonna assume you didn’t go back to the hospital,” White said, forcing an unnatural calm into his voice. Black didn’t respond, and White scowled. He knew first hand how near drownings hurt, how they lingered and could have further complications. “Did you at least try to cough out all the water from your lungs? That can be dangerous. You could get pneumonia or worse!”
“I coughed,” Black grumbled. “Coughed for hours, after. I’m fine, there’s no water in my lungs.”
“I’d like it if you could get checked out,” White said, but he knew that was probably a lost cause. “Okay, that does it. Go find Hia, and everyone, and then let them watch over you while you sleep. Preferably for like, two days. Fuck,” White said, making Black blink at him. “What? I’ve been pretending to be you. And my ex swore worse than that in Russia. She was very creative.”
Black chuckled once, seemingly taken by surprise, and then sighed long and hard. “I still have things to do, you know.”
White waved a hand. “Yup, you do. Healing and resting. And then calling me and telling me how many hours you slept. Just cause I agreed to leave the gang alone, doesn’t mean we’re not keeping in touch, by the way.”
“Are you always this stubborn?” Black asked, and White felt a little flash of pride before he nodded.
“I’ve been learning a lot of things about myself over the past few months, but yeah, I think I always have been. I just forgot for a while.”
Black reached out again, and put his hand to White’s cheek. He looked upset and happy and frustrated and proud all at once.
“I remember you like this. I’m glad you’re back.”
White’s tears started up again, and he smiled through it. “I’m glad you’re awake, Phi. Let me give you the address they’re at, and also my new number. Oh, I called your phone with it.”
Black grimaced. “No good. My phone is soaked, dunno if it’ll live.”
White frowned, and then fished out the paper and pen he’d pilfered from Sean’s things back at the warehouse, in order to write down the address of the safe house. He checked his new phone’s number, and put that info on the paper too, before handing it to Black.
“Can you get there without GPS?”
“I got it,” Black said, with an eye roll. “When you get back to our dad’s, memorize a map of the city.”
White stilled. “I’m not going back to dad’s,” he said, and Black blinked at him.
“Where are you going, then?”
White could only shrug.
“You don’t know?” Black’s voice raised a little bit.
“I was gonna figure it out.” White felt a bitterness fill his voice. He honestly wasn’t sure if it was directed at their parents, or Black himself. “It’s not the first time I’ve been alone in a new country.”
“Are you getting a hotel?”
White scoffed. “I walked out on Dad months ago: any money I had access to is almost gone, and I didn’t want to use too much of your savings.”
Black looked at him for a long moment. “White. Let me get this straight. You have no money and nowhere to go. And you still agreed to leave behind the only people you know, including the person you’re fucking, because I asked you to??” Black’s voice rose considerably more. It sounded pretty dire when Black spelled it all out. White’s face must have answered, because Black suddenly leaned his elbows onto the railing of the bridge, both hands holding his face.
“Fuck it,” Black muttered. “Fuck it. Never mind all that shit. You’re coming with me. Then at least I can make sure you’re not sleeping on the streets!”
White felt like his heart stuttered and restarted. “What?”
“I’m taking you with me. The gang can fucking deal! “ Black turned and grabbed hold of White’s wrist, before taking his phone from White’s hand, and dialing someone.
“Wait, P’Black-?” White said, before the phone picked up, and whoever it was answered.
“Hia,” Black said, “I need a pickup.”
White heard Gumpa greet Black, but it was too muffled to make out the words. After a question, Black looked at White.
“Hold on,” he said to the phone, before pressing it to his shoulder and speaking to White. His face had slid from worried scowl to unimpressed glower. “Did you leave Sean somewhere around here?”
White blinked. “Uh, a ways back that way, but within walking distance.” White pointed back the way he came. Black nodded, and returned to the call.
“Near there. I’ll send you the location. Alright.” And with that Black hung up. White was still reeling at Black’s sudden change of mind. White stepped up closer to his brother, grabbing his sleeve.
“Phi, did you mean it? I can stay?”
Black frowned. “If I say no after all, will you go back to dad where it’s safe?”
White wrinkled his nose. “I’m not going back there, no.”
“See, stubborn.”
“You wouldn’t either, P’Black. I learned really quickly after meeting the gang that the world I came from, we came from, is full of people standing on the backs of others. I won’t live like that. I should have seen it before.”
Black took a longer look at his twin, and White met his gaze. He saw understanding there. Then Black glanced at the street sign at the end of the bridge, and opened White’s phone to message their location to Gumpa. White was still feeling quite wrong-footed about Black’s sudden turn around, but it was sinking in that Black was letting him stay. He was staying! And that meant-
“Sean,” White mouthed. He’d see him again, he’d get to explain. And god, that was terrifying but also exhilarating, because there was a chance, a chance that Sean would forgive him.
“White?” White blinked, and looked down to find he’d actually taken several steps backwards, back towards the warehouse that Sean was sleeping in - hopefully still sleeping - if he was still sleeping then he didn’t have to wake up alone and know that White had left him. That he’d been intending on never coming back.
Black said his name again, but White barely heard, blinking away tears. “Phi, I need to go talk to Sean.”
Without staying to see Black’s face at that, White turned around and started running. Black shouted, but White didn’t turn around. If he was allowed to stay, White would do all he could to make it up to Sean. Black had his chance to separate them, and he recanted, now White was definitely going to stay by both his brother and his boyfriend.
___
Black shouted again after White, but he didn’t try to run after his crazy brother. White had gone distant and quiet after Black had changed his mind on him, staring off into space like he was making a realization. With a sinking feeling, moments before White turned and ran, Black realized what White staying with him, and the gang also meant.
White would be staying with fucking Sean.
White had been willing to leave, to give up on everything, if Black sent him away fully. But now that Black had let him stay, Black didn’t think White would be willing to just not date that bastard, not if his desperate plea for Black to look after Sean was any indicator of his feelings. Goddammit, this was gonna be annoying.
Black sighed, and rubbed at the headache that was growing worse by the moment. Little brothers and abrasive acquaintances aside, Black knew he had bigger problems. There were two tying for first. One was the threat of Todd hanging over him. Todd had crossed the line, two months ago. Black had known he was enraging Todd, a few days prior to that attack, when he tipped them both off the balancing act they’d been on for years. He’d left the penthouse, throat sore from screaming at Todd for his callousness, for how the money and power had finally taken him past a line Black couldn’t ignore. Todd had been cold with anger, and that’s how Black knew they could never go back. Threats were made. And neither of them attempted to take them back.
Only days later, Black was fighting off a group of men he knew Todd hired to take him down. Todd hadn’t succeeding in killing him that time, but he had taken him off the board for months, and, most unforgivably, he’d brought his little brother into danger.
He had woken from the coma consumed with anger at Todd, and that had bloomed into rage at finding out that Todd had been using White. He was used to the feeling that Todd had betrayed him - he’d been doing that for years, and the rage of that burned constantly, but this was just one more thing. But dragging White into this world?
Black had taken one of Gumpa’s guns from the garage, and gone to Todd’s penthouse to show him just how unacceptable that was.
Closing his eyes, Black thought back to the shitshow that was last night. He’d been stupid to accept that drink, a single nod to pretending to be White in order for Todd to let him in close. Of course, Todd made him in a moment, had prepared the drugs. Todd was more sure that Black was going to attempt to kill him than Black was himself, and he’d acted accordingly.
But in the end, Todd had his hands around Black’s throat, holding him underwater, and he still couldn’t do it. He’d left him, coughing and dizzy, in the shallow end of the pool. He’d sat there in the water for hours, too unsteady to move, while one of Todd’s body guards watched him with a silent gaze; neither offering help nor trying to hurt him further. Black had waited until the world stopped spinning from the drugs, and climbed out on legs that shook like a newborn goat, staggering from the building untouched by anyone else. He did take a smidgen of pleasure in dripping all over Todd’s fancy floors as he went.
Black had then spent the remaining hours of the night on a bench near Todd’s building, trying to rub warmth back into his soaking limbs, until the sun rose and dried him off at least a little. He’d started walking to try to warm up and get further away from Todd’s place, and ended up at that bridge, and then White had found him, inexplicably, right when he was wishing he could see his brother the most.
Black shook himself from his thoughts, wincing as the pain in his head spiked a bit at the movement. That was the second problem, resulting from the first. The coma had fucked him up. He felt like shit, worse than he ever had before. He was exhausted, shaky, and sick to his stomach. His limbs felt weak and unattached to his body, and he wanted to sleep for another two months, right here on the planks of this bridge. Being drugged, choked, and soaked didn’t help in the slightest. This was why he hadn’t run after White when he scampered away to go to his boyfriend. He’d probably pass out if he attempted to move that fast.
He needed sustenance, caffeine, and nicotine. Black damned Todd for ruining the pack of cigarettes he’d bought yesterday with pool water. He sighed. There was a corner shop up ahead, Black could see the sign from here. White, the dumbass had left Black with his new burner phone, at least, so Black texted Gumpa a more specific location and the note ‘Come get me after Sean’, and then he walked slowly towards the street. He didn’t know where this warehouse was; White was long gone even if he could have followed him, but Gumpa was going there first so as long as White got there safely, he should be picked up with Sean. In the meantime, Black was gonna smoke if he had to wait.
He spent nearly the last of the baht on him, for cigs, a can of cold coffee, and a package of crackers. Then he settled on the concrete curb by the store to wait in the sun. He lit the cigarette, and breathed in deeply. He perhaps should have taken the opportunity a coma provided to quit, like Gumpa wanted them all to, since he would have been unconscious for all the physical withdrawal symptoms over the past two months. But his brain still wanted them, and he felt too crappy to consider going through all of this without the nicotine hits. Ah well.
The cold coffee and crackers weren’t what he wanted either, but he forced it all down. The coffee was leeching any warmth the sun gave him, making him shiver, but at least it was caffeinated, if far too bitter for his liking. The crackers were plain, but hopefully they’d stay down. He’d felt nauseated since waking, probably because he supposed he hadn’t truly eaten in two months, but he knew he needed at least some calories and to try to get back to normal.
Though, what was normal? So much had changed. White was here, in this country and in his world, and he’d reversed his initial instinct to get him far away from his dangerous life, since White seemed determined to be involved anyway. Maybe White would be too close to Black’s activism, to Todd’s retribution, but White had done a fine job of pulling a lot of that danger to himself anyway, what with how the gang had attracted Tawi’s notice. White wouldn’t go back to the one place Black could think where he would truly be safe, namely, their father’s house with its security and money, and Black couldn’t actually condemn his choice anyway. So, White was in his life, danger and all. It was terrifying, but it was also incredible. His brother was back. Black still almost couldn’t believe it.
Black finished a cigarette and started another.
There was another thing he nearly couldn’t believe. The strange connection between them, the one that had seemed like a childish fantasy, was real. Black had been mostly convinced that it had just been over exaggeration on their parent's part, just an excuse to divorce, but apparently White had felt the drowning last night, had felt the beating. How it could be real, Black didn’t know, but assuming it all was… it changed things. Black had never been one to mind getting hurt for his cause. He wasn’t scared of injuries, or taking a hit. Now, that would cause harm to his brother. What was the extent of it? How badly did he need to hurt for White to feel it? What would happen to White if Todd hurt him again, tried to kill him again, or succeeded? Black didn’t know, but it scared him.
Black was pulled out of his thoughts again when the phone in his hand pinged, and he saw a message from hia.
Arrived at the warehouse to get Sean. We’ll be there soon.
Black’s mouth quirked at the old man texting Gumpa always did.
k
Black sent his reply and tilted his head back against the wall of the shop, lifting the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke upwards. It both did and didn’t feel like the two months had passed that he’d been out. To him, it felt like he’d seen Gumpa and the others only days ago, but it had been much longer. Also, White had been impersonating him, so they also wouldn’t feel like it had been weeks since they’d seen Black. He wondered what Gram would think about it all.
Black snorted. It didn’t matter, it was confusing all around, but the truth would come out. And Black was definitely throwing White under the bus in the explanations, because it wasn’t like Black had asked for White to come take his place, and pretend to be him and lie to his friends. And fall for Sean while everyone thought he was Black… Black shuddered. Gross.
Gram again came to mind, and Black sighed. Gram would have questions, and concerns and big old puppy eyes when he found out about the coma. He got all worried every time Black got a scrape. This was gonna be annoying.